


Her

by dark_muse_iris



Series: BTS Oneshot Stories [5]
Category: K-pop, TWICE (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Emotions, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Marriage, Namjoon Gets Married and My Heart is Too Full, Oaths & Vows, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Reflection, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Planning, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 17:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20475140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_muse_iris/pseuds/dark_muse_iris
Summary: As he makes the final tweaks to his vows on his wedding day, Namjoon reflects on all the ways his fiancée made him a better man.Excerpt:Sitting on a small sofa in the corner of the room, he leafed through the pages, his eyes scanning over the phrases and recollections of their memories together, how she made him feel, and what he wanted to give her in return. The handwritten words looped along every line for several pages. The first thought Namjoon had was that he had too much to say, but he couldn’t bear to cross out anything. The words coated his feelings and gave them a voice. They were imprinted on his heart and he wanted her to hear them.





	Her

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Namjoon x “Her,” his unnamed lady; guest appearances by Seokjin and Dahyun (Twice)
> 
> Genre: Fluff, angst
> 
> POV: 3rd person POV (Namjoon’s)
> 
> Warnings: Marriage!AU, all the feelings one experiences before their wedding, there may be tears

He was never the type to get a full night’s rest, and the night before his wedding was no exception. Namjoon felt every hour of missed sleep ache in the back of his head. His right ear throbbed in time with the chime of his alarm clock.

As his bare feet pressed to the cold wooden floor of his bedroom, the sobering reality that he was truly awake sunk in with a heavy pull.

He didn’t feel ready.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to get married, far from it. He just imagined—or naively hoped, perhaps—that he would wake with a refreshed sense of purpose and smile to match. He had been to scores of weddings in his life and seen so many pictures of happy couples, full of warm expressions and radiating with hope. Not a single one of those people warned him how nauseating the morning of the big day would feel.

He wondered if she was experiencing the same sensation.

_Probably still asleep_, he mused, chuckling under his breath as he rubbed the back of his neck. If he knew his fiancée, she would milk every drop of sleep until her sister dragged her out of bed to get ready. It had been like that for over twenty-five years, a detail she neglected to mention when she moved in a year ago.

Namjoon flicked the switch of his bathroom light, illuminating the room with a straining glow that made his dry eyes burn and fill with tears. He fumbled with the shower knob until his hand recalled which way to turn. It was going to be a long morning of him struggling to move with such little sleep, but the day’s activities were too important to forfeit or delay.

The hot water peppered his back with stings. It was the first feeling that wretched his focus from his twisting stomach. For that, he was relieved. He hoped the warmth of the water would open up his mind and provide the perfect clarity to sort through his prevailing concern: putting the finishing touches on his wedding vows.

Namjoon had written them, in part, over a year ago as a means to justify asking her to marry him. Marriage, while less and less common these days, was an institution of lifelong significance. In his mind, it should only be entered with the utmost reverence and best of intentions.

And he didn’t want it to feel like a mistake, so he wrote down all the reasons he wanted to marry her, along with all the reasons he hoped she would accept. When he recited those reasons to his love on bended knee, he witnessed her bloom into a rose of jubilation, clasping her chest with tears in her eyes. Upon acceptance, Namjoon felt his world was starting to come together, each piece assembling in the prescribed linear order.

What he hadn’t considered at the time of the proposal was how her moving in would change him. It had been so easy to fall in love and connect through small bursts of time, where every date and day together was never long enough. They were inseparable, alight with mutual devotion. He assumed such feelings would grow in a shared apartment without a single negative consequence.

But when they occupied the same space, Namjoon learned quickly how fragile his confidence was, a thin branch straining under the weight of too hard a squeeze. Every downcast glance or puzzled expression from her drained him like a popped water balloon, and he was never enough in his mind.

Namjoon scrubbed the soap bar over his chest and squeezed his eyes as he remembered the morning when he woke up extra early to make her breakfast. The engagement had only been a step forward, but he was determined to meet her at her level, to be worthy of her. When she saw the spread of food on the tray, she hesitated before smiling and saying thank you. The delay of response socked him in the chest and he spent the entire day wondering where he got it wrong. It took him weeks to understand that sometimes, all she truly wanted was a quiet morning cuddle instead of a grand feast. She wanted him, not what he could give her.

The way she would lift her arms and squeeze her hands to coax him back to bed on weekends melted his heart. When she wrapped her limbs around his body like a koala to keep him from leaving the bed to do chores, he relished it. His heart committed to spending every waking moment giving her the life she wanted and deserved, to strive to be a partner she would always cling to. The aim filled his chest again as the running water washed over his head and fell in small rivulets toward the drain.

Namjoon turned off the shower and wrapped a fresh towel around his waist. The chill of the bathroom tile summoned a new deluge of thoughts. His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth as he pondered over the wedding: the guests, the decorations, the music, the order of events. Today would be the first day of the rest of their lives, yet for him, it felt like an ending as well. The choice to commit to someone and get married meant the end of the road for other choices, at least in his mind. He considered the state of his road with its faded paint lines, potholes, and seemingly endless traffic. A heavy sigh rushed past his lips.

_It’s alright to be nervous_, he assured himself_. She already said yes once._

He had no reservations about marrying her after three years together, but he couldn’t view her acceptance on the same footing. What if on the morning of the wedding, she discovered that he isn’t the one she’s supposed to marry? What if the “forsaking all others” part was too final? Was he indeed worth that level of commitment for a woman who could easily do better?

_What if I’m not ready? What if I’m not worthy yet?_

Namjoon looked at his reflection in the mirror. The man staring back was another lost passenger in a subway station. He wanted to marry her but wondered whether he could perform all the duties of a husband. Was he emotionally and mentally prepared for all that entailed? How could he be sure?

The glide of his razor blade anchored him to the present, but the questions turned over in his head like a rotisserie. Self-doubt was the last thing he wanted to experience on his wedding day. He considered calling Seokjin to ask for advice, but he didn’t want his best man to think he was getting cold feet. He wasn’t.

He had to harden his resolve. He clenched his jaw and blew a steady breath from his nostrils. After completing his shave, he examined himself again. In the mirror was a man who looked no different than one preparing for a ruthless job interview. In some ways, an interview and a wedding were the same. Both required preparation, sleepless nights, and fluttering stomachs at the prospect of being a public spectacle. It was imperative that no one noticed how shaky Namjoon was. The wedding guests would only see the mask of stability and assured confidence.

He blotted the water droplets from his chin with a towel and forced a smile. It was handsome enough to sell, but the act twisted his stomach in knots. He thought of their families and friends. His fiancée was the last to be married among her sisters. Surely, her family would hope for a man who could deliver a proper groom and give them peace of mind.

“I’ll never feel that confident,” he muttered under his breath, patting the aftershave against his cheeks. The best he could aim for was appearing the part and hiding the rest.

Except from her. There was no hiding from his fiancée’s discerning eye that could tell the difference between true confidence and a charade. Ever the saint, she would forgive his nervousness and they could laugh about it later at the reception.

Namjoon threw on casual sweats and grabbed his suit and bag before walking out the door. He hoped the ride to the venue would get him out of his head long enough to relax. Otherwise, he would throw up.

* * *

Halfway to the venue, the music on the radio turned to one of her favorite songs. It was a soft contemporary number Namjoon never cared for, but this morning it was a much-needed comfort as it summoned reassuring words from the past.

> _"You don’t have to always be on top of it, babe,” she echoed. “My parents only care that I’m happy and that you’re not a criminal. They’ll love you. Let me get that.”_
> 
> _Her fingers clasped the strips of fabric and tugged to straighten them anew. Namjoon was never going to get the tie right on his own. Not today._
> 
> _“What if your dad thinks I’m not good enough for you?”_
> 
> _“I didn’t ask for his opinion, first of all,” she laughed. “He may be a little wounded about not being the most important man in my life anymore, but it’s time for me to move on and I want to move on with you.”_

The corners of Namjoon’s lips curled in remembrance of the parting hug from her mother later that night. It imbued all the warmth and support he had been looking for in an extended family, and even though that night was merely dinner and a first meeting, it was meaningful for him.

> _“See? It wasn’t that bad,” her voice called from his memories. “Dad even let you into his library. Do you think he lets just anyone touch his first editions and sniff those pages? Only a true nerd would appreciate them.”_
> 
> _“He has quite the collection. I’m jealous.”_
> 
> _“I got half those books for him myself,” she said with a wide grin. “You’re in good hands. I’ll hook you up.”_

She held his hand and interlaced her fingers the whole ride home. In her gentle way, she reassured him and gave him the confidence to head into future dinners with her parents.

She was right. He was in good hands because he was in hers. Doubting himself had no root in reality. It was time to let go of the self-depreciation, at least for the day, and let himself be encouraged by the fact she already said yes. A woman as strong-willed and confident as her wouldn’t have accepted his proposal if she wasn’t sure. He was at least worthy of that. He could do this. He just needed to convince himself of it.

Namjoon arrived at the venue with a percolating sensation of excitement in his stomach, or was it nerves? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t see his fiancée’s car, but her sister’s car was there, so he assumed she had already arrived before him. Standing outside the entrance was his best man, Seokjin, yammering on the phone and pointing at the ground.

“You’d better find a way to get here then, or else I don’t think they’ll pay you,” he said, laughing with a veiled threat in his tone. He looked down at his shoes. “When you sign a contract and you agree to be here, then you get here. You’re already missing the pre-wedding footage. The photographer isn’t going to cover for you.”

Namjoon slung the bag over his shoulder and looked at his friend with a puzzled expression.

“I’m looking at the groom right now. He’s wondering where you are,” Seokjin added with a wink. After a few moments of the person on the other line trying to plead their case, he interrupted, “Namjoon, how much are you paying the videographer?”

Namjoon answered with a number that made his friend scoff and hold up his finger. “Hey pal,” he said on the phone, “there’s no way in _hell_ I’m letting them pay you that price if you’re late. That’s delusional.”

Namjoon winced and wondered why the videographer wasn’t talking to the wedding planner. Maybe he hoped Seokjin would be more agreeable and smooth things over. He imagined the man was regretting that decision now.

“How much time do you need?” Seokjin pressed, looking at his watch, then his friend. “I can give you thirty minutes if you shave off ten percent. I’m hanging my neck out now and I don’t even know you. Do we have a deal? M-hm. Alright, see you soon.”

He ended the call and tucked the phone in his inner jacket pocket, then opened his arms for a friendly embrace. “What would you do without me?”

Namjoon gave him a hug and pat on the back. “Did you just get me ten percent off the videographer?”

“Yeah, he called and said he’s going to be late. He’s having issues getting a ride because he’s a damn kid and didn’t plan properly. If you and your lady are alright with stalling the wedding start time by half an hour, you’ll have the videographer ready to go.”

“Why didn’t he call Jihyo? Everyone supposed to coordinate through her.”

“He probably didn’t want to piss her off. She could hurt his business more than we could, with the number of weddings she does around here. That choice cost him ten percent. You think half an hour would be okay?”

“That’s fine, but don’t tell my bride that he’s late. I don’t want her to be stressed and wondering if the wedding is falling apart. She’s not supposed to be worrying about anything today. Tell Jihyo, though, and tell her that I’m asking for more time because I’m tweaking my vows. I need to do that anyway.”

Seokjin’s eyes widened in surprise. “You didn’t finish them? The assignment is due today, man!”

“I wrote them, but I don’t know if they’re good enough. I need to look over them and make sure they say everything.”

“Everything? I don’t think we have two hours for that.”

Namjoon laughed. “It won’t take that long. I know how you’re eager to get to the reception.”

“Damn right,” Seokjin agreed with a pat to his stomach. “I skipped dinner last night just for this. I’m not holding back today.” He grinned and pulled out his phone. “I’ll call Jihyo and then head back in and make sure the other guys are dressed and don’t look like hell. Everyone’s here already.”

“How did you manage that?”

“I lied and told them the wedding line-up was at nine thirty instead of ten thirty,” he said, chuckling. “You let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Thanks, brother.”

Seokjin nodded and placed his call, taking a stroll in the parking lot with a hand planted firmly on the side of his waist. Namjoon was relieved to have him running interference in so many areas of the wedding. It saved him stress and time and that meant more chances to get his vows right.

* * *

By the time Namjoon finished getting dressed, styling his hair, and fidgeting with his belt and cuff links, his mind was abuzz with thoughts of his duffel bag waiting on the edge of the counter. In it was the leather-bound notebook containing his vows, as well as every previous version which had been marked through. The small room he was getting ready in was the only chance he’d have for quiet contemplation before the wedding and he wanted to use the time wisely. As he unzipped the bag and brushed the edge of the book, there was a small knock at the door.

“Come in,” he said.

“Hello, hello!”

His fiancée’s sister, Dahyun, was nothing but smiles. Seeing her in the elegant lavender gown and full makeup with hair already finished further reminded him of the imminent nuptials.

“Good morning,” he greeted warmly. “How’s my future wife holding up?”

She waves her hand with a playful dismissal. “She’s fine. She did most of her crying last night so today she’s all nerves. You know how she gets worked up when there’s a large group. I heard the wedding is delayed by half an hour because you needed more time. I’m here to check on you and see if you need anything.”

“The videographer is running late, but I didn’t want her to know and be stressed about it.”

“Ah, she would have been stressed even if everything was perfect, but she’s in good hands. We’ve got her,” she assured with a smile.

Namjoon returned the expression. “I know you’re all taking care of her for me.”

“Everything will come together and really hit her once she gets the dress on. She’s doing makeup now. Can I report back that you’re eager to get married today?”

“Yes, I’m almost ready. I’d just like to have a little more time to look over the vows again.”

She clasped her hands to her chest and smiled wider. “Am I going to cry? I tried to get her to read me hers last night and she wouldn’t do it.”

“Are you a crier?”

“She’s my little sister.”

He chuckled. “Then you might cry no matter what I say.”

“That’s probably true.” Dahyun released a long sigh of acceptance and then approached him to offer a supportive hug. “I’ll tell her to take her time getting herself together so you can look them over.”

“Thank you,” he said, letting go of his future sister-in-law. “Will you let her know that I love her too?”

“Aww,” she cooed, unable to help herself. “Of course.”

Namjoon smiled as she wished him luck with the vows and closed the door behind her. He returned to his bag and grabbed the notebook, undoing its clasp to view the contents.

Sitting on a small sofa in the corner of the room, he leafed through the pages, his eyes scanning over the phrases and recollections of their memories together, how she made him feel, and what he wanted to give her in return. The handwritten words looped along every line for several pages. The first thought Namjoon had was that he had too much to say, but he couldn’t bear to cross out anything. The words coated his feelings and gave them a voice. They were imprinted on his heart and he wanted her to hear them.

_I am a flawed man, but your love gave me the chance to grow._

Love is an action, as much or more than a feeling, and that took years to learn. Namjoon only understood that after she forgave him for getting upset over the little things. When he was younger, it was common for those minor irritations to tower like mountains in his mind, rising far beyond logic and facts. Many days, he failed to pull back and see the forest because he was too focused on the condition of the leaves and the ruggedness of the tree bark. It took her patience and calm hand for him to slow down and enjoy the tranquil air that sharing a comfortable life with someone can bring.

For that, more than anything, Namjoon was ready to commit to her for life until death. Before meeting her, the concept of a long-term commitment flew in the face of the statistics that shaped his worldview. Life was temporary and fleeting, in a constant state of flux. As a precaution, he wanted to remain adaptive. Fate and soulmates—those were candy-coated lies to stave off the loneliness and excuse the unwillingness to get out into the world and act. The belief in destiny that made people get married was an unwelcome notion in his life. That is until he met her and realized why people pay small fortunes to find someone. The warm assurance of reliable support meant more to him than having escape plans ever did.

_Since I met you, my life has direction and purpose._

He meant those words. He imagined clasping her soft hands and saying them to her in less than an hour. The longer he pondered on the thought of what the immediate future would bring, the lighter his chest felt. He had one goal that truly mattered to him: be the best partner for her and, by extension, for himself.

Her vows were as much a mystery as his, but Namjoon anticipated they would contain encouraging words. As a man who frequently doubted his capabilities, he found comfort in believing he could do this, get married and begin a new chapter. She said yes and she made it to the venue. She probably had her dress on already and was soon going to be heading to line up with her sister and the others.

_I’m so ready to embark on this journey with you as my wife._

A scratchy lump clung to the walls of his throat as he swallowed it down, his eyes affixed to the last word on the page.

“Knock, knock!”

Seokjin’s voice boomed as he rapped his knuckles against the closed door before letting himself in. “You’re not ready yet? You’re telling me the first day you’re late to anything is your wedding day?”

“Am I late?” Namjoon asked, clearing his throat.

His best man furrowed his brow and shut the door behind him. “Are you having second thoughts? Look, I can get you out of here. Sometimes the ‘best’ thing is being there for your brother and helping him escape out the back. It’s not too late—she’s hot, though. I saw her on my way here. She’s ready for you.”

A laugh bellowed from Namjoon’s chest. His friend always knew what to say to break the tension in the room and he appreciated that today, more than ever.

“I’m not having second thoughts. I was just looking over the vows and preparing myself.”

“You look like you did before the UN speech.”

“Like I’m going to vomit?”

“Like you have one chance and you don’t want to screw up. Let me just say, marriage is full of screwing up. I would know,” Seokjin said. “But she’s a forgiving woman and she loves you. You’re going to do great. You’re going to put your jacket on, use your legs to walk up there—not trip like in rehearsal—and wait for her to come to you. Once you see her, everything will be great and it won’t matter what you say. You’ll be so happy and in love that your mother will probably cry again.”

“Again?” This was the first Namjoon had heard of it.

“It’s been a long morning, brother. I’ve done so much for you for this wedding and this is my last job. Let’s get your jacket on and get you married. The decadent crab dip won’t eat itself.”

Seokjin waited as Namjoon tucked his arms into the jacket sleeves and pulled the fabric over his shoulders, then he pinned the boutonniere to the groom’s lapel.

“You look ready,” he said, brushing the top edges of the jacket with quick sweeps of his hand.

Namjoon gave a determined nod and calm smile to his friend, dimples poking into each cheek. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”


End file.
